There’s been a lot of talk around here this week (and over at our sister site, TheGloss) about bikini lines, shaving, waxing, laser hair removal, and general grooming of our downstairs lady parts. There was our recent Wax, Laser, Shave, or Au Naturel Poll; there was Jamie Peck talking about liking her bushy bush in Au Naturel: A Growing Case for Pubic Hair (originally posted on TheGloss). And then there’s our brand-new exclusive bikini wax giveaway from Shobha Salon in NYC!
I’m 38, and I’ve never had a bikini wax. Until three weeks ago, that is. What’s worse, I live in New York City, where apparently, anything less than a militaristic vigilance regarding one’s pubes is equivalent to a felony.
Like Jamie Peck, I never felt it necessary to get waxed. The boys in my life never complained. (Sometimes I shaved a little and trimmed with manicure scissors as necessary.) But I don’t recall feeling any kind of peer pressure from my friends. What’s more, waxing was a luxury I couldn’t regularly afford in my 20s. Back then, I preferred to spend my sporadically-earned money in wine shops, liquor stores, and bodegas that sold beer. Besides, there was no need for my privates to resemble those of a seven-year-old girl, because I wasn’t taking up with paroled pedophiles (that I know of).
But when I recently told a few female colleagues (all in their mid to late 20s) that I had just gotten a professional bikini wax for the first time in 38 years, they acted like I’d just told them Glee had been canceled. Here are some of their responses:
What??!! How did you make it this long without ever waxing? You live in New York!!
It’s like chopping off all your long (head) hair really short on a whim! Was there a dramatic change that made you wax all of a sudden? Did you just get divorced? Are you dating someone new?
At this point, why bother doing it at all?
There’s no timeline for waxing, and I hope you enjoyed it.
The answer is: I guess I finally wanted to see what all the fuss was about. I’m into getting body treatments, and these days, as Editor of Blisstree, they’re kind of part of my job description. I’ve had my legs and eyebrows waxed before, so I’m not a total novice. (Though I’ll never be as experienced as my jaded, hairless co-workers.) The result? My bikini wax hurt like hell – not because the lady was too rough (she wasn’t), but because, well, bikini waxes hurt like hell. Afterward, I felt a little like Carrie Bradshaw in that episode of Sex and the City where they vacation in L.A. and Carrie gets waxed to within an inch of her Manolos. And then I felt real pain because I had just compared my life to a SATC episode.
Now that I’m over the fear of my clit being accidentally yanked off, I do see what all the fuss is about. It’s a much cleaner, less fussy look. It’s also less work, which I’m all for, as a rule. But I have no idea how all these 20-something urbanites build bi-weekly waxing appointments into their schedules and budgets. They must work at home and drink cheap beer.
The funny thing is that my significant other actually prefers my hirsute look (and spending that money on other things, like mortgage payments). But I didn’t finally succumb to peer pressure after 38 years only to immediately revert back to my coarse, unruly ways.
As I wrote this post, I got an email reminder from Shobha Salon about my upcoming bikini wax appointment. This bush is busted.